Nightmare's Products
by Kadreia
Summary: Sequel to Baker Street Shooting.  Sherlock is getting nightmares. Horrible nightmares, and John doesn't know if he can take waking up to Sherlock's half scream half cry.
1. Chapter 1

The night after, what was called, the Baker Street shooting.

* * *

><p>"Sherlock?"<p>

"_Well nice for you to join us, Sherlock."_

"_Shut up and let John go, Moriarty," Sherlock snarled. _

_Moriarty had John tied to a chair and gagged._

"_No I don't think I will." _

_Sherlock took a step forward as Moriarty continued. "Ah, I wouldn't do that." He then pointed a gun at John's head._

"Sherlock!"

"_Don't," Sherlock growled._

_Moriarty laughed. "Let me burn your heart out Sherlock."_

"Sherlock wake up!"

_Moriarty tilted John's head back and kissed him. Sherlock was frozen in raw anger. Moriarty pulled away and at that same moment shot John in the head._

"Sherlock," screamed John " wake up!" Sherlock realized he was screaming. He made himself stop and looked at John, who was sitting next to him on his bed. Sherlock climbed out from under the covers and snuggled on Johns lap. He buried his face in the doctor's neck.

"Sherlock, are you alright?"

"No," was all that he could reply before the doctor put his arms around him and hugged him tightly.

"John, you died," Sherlock mumbled into the doctor's neck.

"No, I didn't. I'm right here."

"He shot you. That bastard shot you."

"Sherlock, I'm not dead."

"I know."

They sat there together in silence until Sherlock stopped shaking, and then John started to move away from the detective.

"I'm going back to bed." John mumbled. Sherlock glanced at the clock. A quarter past three in the morning.

"No, please don't leave me again," Sherlock, said desperately.

"Sherlock, I have to go to bed."

Sherlock stared at him, then moved over. Only then did he notice his sheets were drenched in sweat. He looked back at John and stood up. Sherlock followed John into his bedroom and got into bed. John didn't protest and just went right into bed next to him. Sherlock snuggled next to John and put his hand on his chest.

"Sherlock, wh-"

"I need to."

"Oh," John sighed. They fell asleep in that same position, neither one moving a muscle.

* * *

><p>The next morning John awoke, and Sherlock wasn't beside him.<p>

–_shatter- _"Shit!" Sherlock muttered loud enough for John to here him in his bedroom. John laughed. He really loved that man. "What the hell." John mumbled to himself. What was he thinking? Sherlock was his flatmate not his boyfriend. It suddenly occurred to him. "When did Sherlock ever drop something that could shatter?" He quickly pulled on the t-shirt on his chair and walked briskly to the kitchen.

"Are you okay?" he asked for the second time that morning.

"John! You're awake!" Sherlock zestfully responded.

"What did you break, Sherlock?"

"Oh, that. It was just a teacup. I knocked it over with my elbow."

"Okay," John smiled.

Sherlock smiled back and handed John a cup of tea. He walked lazily to the couch and sat.

"John, I'm bored."

John laughed. That was his Sherlock, always bored. "Will Lestrade not give you a case?"

"He says I'm in shock and shouldn't be working cases."

"Oh," John couldn't argue with that. After what he had seen last night Sherlock was, maybe, not in shock, but he was close to a melt down. "Well that's not too bad, I guess. I took off work because of this," he said pointing to his bandaged head, "What do you want to do today?"

Sherlock glanced at John's wounded head and frowned, obviously feeling guilty for it.

"It's not your fault, you know?" John said noticing Sherlock's frown. He only got loud short breath in reply. He sighed and sat next to Sherlock.

"John, I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For being me, for putting you in so much danger, for making you put up with my experiments, for almost getting you killed, a lot."

"Sherlock, shut up. You know how boring you would be if you didn't do those things. I would've left by now if those things bothered me. Sherlock looked at me,"

Sherlock turned and faced him, as ordered. "You are an annoying man. I constantly worry about how much you eat and sleep. I never know what I will find in the fridge or microwave. You are constantly invading my privacy for experiments or just out of pure boredom, and you are one of the most_ amazing_ people I know." When John finished he pulled Sherlock in for a hug. The detective didn't hug back until the doctor began drawing away his grip. Then Sherlock tightly wrapped his arms around his flatmate.

"And you, John, are my most loved and _only_ friend."

John smiled at the statement and held Sherlock in his arms once again. He wondered if in eighteen hours he would be doing this again, only with Sherlock shaking out of fear of a nightmare that only John could protect him from. John silently wished not. He loved to cuddle with Sherlock, but he was repelled by the thought of Sherlock clinging to him out of fear. He hated to see his friend in that state, but he knew that there was a high chance that it would happen again. And John would be there to hold him until he calmed down.

* * *

><p>They both worked on some of Sherlock's insane experiments the entire day, and John thought it was quite fun. He yawned and realized it was two in the morning.<p>

"I'm gong to bed Sherlock. You should too. You don't need to be doing nothing all night."

"Okay. Good night, John."

Good night, Sherlock."

John walked to his room praying that Sherlock would be okay without him. Praying that his friend wouldn't have a nightmare like the one before. He considered going and sleeping in Sherlock's bed with him, but dismissed the idea, out of hope that he wouldn't be needed during the night. Not that he minded being needed.


	2. Chapter 2

_Sherlock walked into an old building on the north side of town. Moriarty had texted him and told him to meet him here. When he walked in he found John and Moriarty sitting on a couch together._

"_John, what are you doing here?"_

_Moriarty answered for him, "Well you see Sherlock, John loves me now, not you."_

"_Well that's shit" Come on John let's go. _

_This time John answered. " No Sherlock you heard Moriarty. I love him now."  
>Sherlock stared, shocked by his friends response. <em>

"_I told you," Moriarty smirked. John leaned into him, and kissed him. Moriarty kissed back, until he took a knife from his back pocket and shoved it into John's stomach. The doctor grunted then fell over._

_Moriarty looked at the body and then at Sherlock._

"_You were lucky. He was a nice kisser, but I told you I was gong to burn your heart out, and now I did." He laughed then walked out of the room. Sherlock rushed over to John. _

"_John? Oh God, John! JOHN!_

* * *

><p>"Sherlock wake up."<p>

No response.

"Sherlock wake up!" This time John yelled it and was shaking his friends shoulder vigorously.

"W-what?"

"Come on, Sherlock. you were having another nightmare,and I can't have you screaming all night," as he said this John was pulling Sherlock out of his bed and out of the door.

"Where-"

"You're coming to sleep with me. I can't stand to hear you scream."

"Oh."

John directed Sherlock to one side of the bed and John took the other side.

"Sherlock why are you having these nightmares?"

Sherlock sighed. "I'll tell you in the morning."

John was going to say something, but Sherlock pulled him closer and wrapped his arms around the doctor. John let him do it thinking it would help him calm down. Sherlock fell asleep ten minutes later, but John was still up. His mind kept jumping from one thing to the other. "Sherlock doesn't get nightmares. What is going on in his mind? "He slowly drifted asleep and his last thought before he did was: "Does Sherlock love me that much?"

* * *

><p>When John woke up the next morning Sherlock was still wrapped around him. John laughed.<p>

"Yes?"

The voice startled John.

"Oh Sherlock, I didn't know you were awake. So are you going to tell me why you are having those nightmares now?"

Sherlock sighed, " I don't want to tell you why, but I will tell you that, I'm so scared that I might loose you."

"What? Sherlock, I haven't left you yet, and I wont leave you now."  
>"Yes, you will. You will find some perfect person and leave me. You always will."<p>

John turned over and faced Sherlock.

"I'm sorry. You are married to your work, though, right?"

Sherlock cut him off with a kiss. John hesitated a moment and then kissed back. It was a long kiss, and when they pulled apart they were out of breath.

"I wont leave you again, Sherlock. I promise."

Sherlock smiled. "I don't think I will wake you up anymore either. Although I don't know if I will let you go to bed without me."  
>"That's perfectly fine with me," said John as he leaned in for another kiss.<p>

* * *

><p>It was noon and John left to go to the doctor for his head, and Sherlock promised him he'd stay at home until he got back.<p>

His phone lit up with a text.

_I'm sorry Sherlock; I think John just left you. _

_-JM_

Sherlock stared at his phone.

"No. Please God, NO!"


	3. Chapter 3

Sherlock hurriedly texted back:

_Where is John?_

_-SH_

It was only a moment before a reply was given.

_Now the game wouldn't be fun if I just told you now would it._

_-JM_

Sherlock slammed his phone on the counter. It lit up with another message.

_Don't worry Sherlock he's not dead. Yet. Anyway, I'll give you the rest of the day to find your dear flatemate before he commits suicide. Good Luck._

_-JM_

"Oh God, John I'm so sorry." Sherlock was half crying. He almost lost him more than once and if he couldn't solve this game John was going to d-…

"Shut up," he yelled at himself. He was bloody Sherlock Holmes. He could solve this if he had evidence or something to work off of. His phone buzzed on the counter.

_Your move._

_-JM_

Sherlock replied:

_You can't play a game without anything to play with._

_-SH_

A moment later:

_So true, Sherlock. By the way I love John's blog. He keeps up with everything._

_-JM_

Sherlock rushed to his computer and pulled up John's blog. Nothing new except one post. It read:

_I promised Sherlock that I would never leave him, but he always leaves me every morning without even a cup of tea to say good morning._

Sherlock immediately jumped up and ran to the cupboard, but there was no tea. He remembered they ran out yesterday. He walked back over to his computer. A new post has been submitted.

_I guess I can't blame him. We are all out. I have to remember to get some for him._

Sherlock stared at the post. "The store," he thought. He ran down the stairs and out the door. When he got to the store he went straight for the tea, but the kind that John usually got was gone. The empty space left a hole on the shelf, and you could see to the other side. It took Sherlock a minute, but he deduced it. The kind of tea that John bought was mixed in behind all the other brands, all the other brands that John hated. His phone vibrated inside his coat pocket.

_Have you found it yet, Sherlock, the place where your precious John has gone?_

_-JM_

_I know it's someplace he doesn't like._

_-SH_

_Very good, Sherlock. Now what does John hate?_

_-JM_

Sherlock thought for a moment. John never refused to go anywhere, but he would be less happy to go to some places than others. Sherlock had walked four blocks before it came to him. John hates museums. He would always be mopey when he went to one, like a little kid that didn't want to eat his vegetables. Sherlock hailed a cab and went to the Bank of England Museum. That was another thing John hated: math. Sherlock gave a little laugh of the memory of John trying to do complex math.

"I went to army for a reason, Sherlock," he said

"Just to get out of doing math? That's one crappy reason, John."

"That was just one of them."

They both laughed.

Sherlock wondered if he would have any more memories like that with John. John was the only person who could get him to laugh, and Sherlock wouldn't know what to do if he left.

The cab pulling up to the museum interrupted his thoughts. He paid the cab driver and went inside. "Now what else does John hate?" he questioned himself. His phone buzzed. The message was from a blocked number, and it read:

_Help me. The basement._

_-JW_

Sherlock almost hit himself. How could he forget John hated places underground? They reminded him too much of enemy prisons in the war. Sherlock ran through the museum until he found the door that led to the basement. Finding the door was easy getting in was another matter. He had to sneak past three security guards and pick a lock to get in, but he did manage. He ran down the stairs, when he reached the bottom the stair way separated into two hall ways one going to the left and one to the right. Sherlock thought for a moment and then raced down the left hallway. John limped on his left leg and it bothered him, so if he had to choose the leg John hated then it would be the left. He ran the length of the hallway and got to two doors. He looked at the one on the right first. He noticed that there was a small wire, barely noticeable, running through the doorknob to the other side. He looked at the second door.

"Alright lets try this one," he muttered. He opened the door and there was John. He was bloody and unconscious but alive.

"I would have thought you would have been here sooner. Quicker when John's around, is that it?" Moriarty stepped from the shadows.

"I played your game and won. Now let John go."

"Oh but Sherlock, this is the best part. You see getting you here wasn't the game. I'm not that boring. This is the real game." He held up two pills. "Just like the Study in Pink. You never did finish that little game, but I am putting a twist on this one. You will not take the pill you choose. John will."

"No."

"Yes you will. Because either he takes the pill you choose or a slug in the back of the head."

John stirred. He was beginning to wake up. He opened his eyes and sat up.

"Sherlock!" he exclaimed. The doctor looked around and saw Moriarty standing behind him with the pills. "Oh God. This again?"

"Yes, John this again, but this time your life is in your friends hands. Sherlock could be remembered as your hero or your killer," Moriarty smirked. He turned to Sherlock, "Choose wisely, Sherlock. You don't want to kill your only friend."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's notes: People have asked me who takes the second pill. Well no one does. Moriarty isn't like the cabby and does have thing to loose. He isn't making anyone take the second pill. sorry I really didn't make that clear.<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

"Sherlock, don't," John pleaded desperately.

"I will _not _let you die." Sherlock muttered "Not again."

Moriarty laughed, "You two are so cute!"

Sherlock turned to Moriarty, "Could you give us a minute."

Jim thought for a minute and then walked towards the door. "I'll be out side the door. So don't think you can pull anything." When he said this John thought he sounded like a normal human being. And why was he being compliant?

"The man hasn't slept in three days, if that's what your thinking. He's not like me, and his mind begins shutting down without a few days of sleep like any normal human."

"Oh. So what are we going to do?"

Sherlock's voice was barley audible, "I will pick a pill and you will put it in your mouth, but don't chew or swallow it."

"What do I do with it then."

"John you're going to have to trust me."

"Okay."

"Just keep it in your mouth, and I will take care of the rest. Okay?"

"Why can't you tell me what you are going to do?"

"Moriarty may be tired, but he's still smart. If you're not slightly scared he'll no some things up."

"But Sher-"

"Ssshh, he's coming back in."

Sherlock was right. Half a second later the door handle turned and Moriarty walked back into the room.

"Let's get this moving. Which pill?"

"What happens to the one I don't choose?" Sherlock asked.

"I take it back with me as a reminder that I beat the great Sherlock Holmes, or that I lost to a worthy opponent."

"Good enough for me." Sherlock stepped towards him, and Moriarty held out the pills in his hand. Sherlock thought for a moment, looked at the damned consulting criminal, then to John, then back again. He mumbled something under his breath that John couldn't hear, and then chose the pill closer to Moriarty. He walked over to John and knelt beside him. He shoved the pill into John's mouth, and whispered into his ear "Trust me." John hid the pill under his tongue and swallowed his saliva, careful not to accidently down the pill. He glanced at Moriarty who was smiling. He glanced at Sherlock beside him. He was crying. John suddenly became very terrified. Why was Sherlock crying? He would take care of everything, right? Like he always did. John realized he couldn't move. He tired and couldn't. He couldn't even lift a finger, and it hurt to breath. Moriarty turned towards John.

"I win," He smirked. "Because I always win."

Sherlock moved in front of John, and stood on his knees so he was eye level with the doctor. His cheeks were tear stained and his eyes were red.

"John I'm so sorry," his voice was filled with sorrow and regret. He leaned towards John and pressed his lips against John's. His lips were warm and soft. "Will this be the last thing I feel? I guess that won't be so bad." John silently thought to himself. He felt Sherlock's tongue grace against his bottom lip. John opened his mouth and let Sherlock continue. Sherlock searched his mouth with his tongue until he found the pill still under John's tongue. He scooped it up in his own, and pulled his tongue back into his mouth. He broke their contact and swallowed the pill and then leaned back. He cocked John's head in a position where Moriarty could see their mouths. He just barley said, "Play dead John." Before John could reply Sherlock pressed his lips against the doctors for the second time that day. John caught on and let his body fall limp in the chair. Sherlock broke away and stared at his flatemate. "God no, John!" His words were consumed in tears. Sherlock was a surprisingly good actor John thought. The detective had covered John's body with his own in a big hug, and he had his nails digging into John's back. He heard Moriarty speak.

"I burnt your heart out."

He heard the click of the door and knew Jim Moriarty was gone. John jumped from his chair and stared at Sherlock. To shocked to speak he just stared at his friend. Sherlock broke the silence.

"I knew what the poison in the pill was. I have been building an immunity to it since 'A Study in Pink'."

John relaxed.

"If I didn't swallow the pill why did my body tense up?" John asked.

Sherlock had a guilty look on his face.

"I, um, well, I have been giving you the same poison for a few months now. Just in case."

John was furious.

"You have been drugging me?"

Sherlock only nodded.

"Sherlock, I hate you so much."

Sherlock looked up. His faced looked as though his world had just been destroyed.

"But I love you so much more. But no more drugging me without my permission."

Sherlock jumped from his sitting position on the floor.

"Oh you know I could never make that promise, John"

"Yeah should have guessed that's what you would've said."

They both laughed.

"Well Sherlock, I think I've died enough for one month. Let's go home."

"Agreed," Sherlock said with a smile.

* * *

><p>When they got back to the flat John went to the kitchen to make tea and Sherlock went to the living room. His phone buzzed inside his jacket. He took it out and looked at the message.<p>

_I'm not that tired. Say 'hi' to John for me. By the way great acting. Both the pills were poisoned, but you already knew that didn't you. You also knew that I would figure out that John wasn't dead. You probably shouldn't tell him that though. He may lose faith in you._

_-JM_

Sherlock replied:

_Piss off. I told you I would die for him. _

_-SH_


End file.
